the spider on my balcony has five legs, not eight
I think to myself, what a pity, that its struggles are!
though I stop myself and ask; is having five legs worse than eight?
I've only two!
so how can I tell?

well! its web is different than those I've seen
less ordered, less dense
at times it flails before it pivots, to conjoin the lines
disorder! we know that to be a curse!
what a curse! what a curse! to affront the mold!

yet it persists, holding on, with its five legs, not eight
in the wind, in the rain, it deigns to ensnare those
whom, I suppose, lack its elegance - trickery, and guile
plodding on, eventually grasping the next thread
linking twine to twine
harmonizing strands
as I think of its life, and mine
and mine,
and mine,
and mine.